Wednesday, January 23, 2013

after the storm

the thunderclap was so loud that
we, standing
under the verandah to see the
rain slam down in sheets,
jumped a mile
and ran
back inside
scaring the cats and dog
who were perhaps already
scared
by thunder louder than any thunder in the history of
thunder

if there is a such a thing.

if such a history exists it isn't in a book somewhere but
waits
written in memory alone

for all or one of us to
pull out some day far in the
future or tomorrow
and say
remember that storm? the one where
we jumped and ran and laughed
so hard? where we were scared a little but
at least we
were together?

and after the storm
which rolled and
rolled

after we waited in light so
dim it felt like night

after the sun came back and power too,
all the lamps and clocks
dancing on with a click

I walked through the
garden

and under a just-washed sky

to see and take note of the wet
and the life,

to look at
all the small bright things.













6 comments:

  1. Beautiful words Helena. I love the excitement of thunderstorms too xx

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  2. Mmmmm, thanks for sharing the small bright things with us. It all looks so fresh.

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  3. you did such a beautiful job of describing this storm, this experience. i felt i was there. beautiful photos.

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  4. Great description. Love the phrase "written in memory alone" about the history of the loudness of thunder! And the "just-washed sky", and and and, so many other thoughts. Love your photo of the rainbow coming out from the dark dark clouds into the light. Good to see your blog again!

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  5. Goodness your writing is just beautiful...
    xoxo

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  6. The beauty after the storm. As always Helena, I feel like I am actually there. You have such a gift, the gift of creating beauty with the same 26 letters we all have...

    I love thunderstorms. When I lived in San Fran, that is one thing I missed so much.

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I love hearing from you! Thank you for your heartfelt, thoughtful responses—they lift me, and give me light.